


To the Edge of Night

by mythras_fire



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Challenge Response, Extended Scene, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-13
Updated: 2005-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you going to leave me?” Merry asked in a weak voice. His face was covered in Orc blood, mixed in with some of his own, and he looked so tired.</p>
<p>“No Merry, I’m going to look after you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Edge of Night

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge from Slashy Goodness:**  
>  1\. It must be romantic and sappy!!  
> 2\. Your couple ends up in the park...but not before a major misunderstanding beforehand.  
> 3\. An important question must be asked...but it CANNOT be a marriage proposal or for two people to live together. (Use your imagination)  
> 4\. One of your characters must receive a small injury...and we want to know how it happened and what the other character will do to make it all better.  
> 5\. Someone must lose their shirt...we want to know why.
> 
> **AN:** I substituted a garden for the park requirement since there is probably no such thing as a park during the age of Middle Earth. And this is my first slash fic, so please, be gentle.  
>  **Dedication:** I dedicate this to Stormy as she likes Merry as much as I like Pippin. Okay, Stormy, I promised I’d write a Hobbit fic, so here’s a Valentine’s Day one for ya.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own The Lord of the Rings, the lyrics to 'The Steward of Gondor', or any related parties.

Pippin walked with a heavy heart through the battlefield on the plains of Pelennor, below the castle stronghold of Minas Tirith, calling out Merry’s name. He had been searching for his best friend in all of Middle Earth for hours, looking behind, underneath, and around fallen Rohirrim, huge, bloody Orcs, and oliphant carcasses.

“Merry!.....Merry!....Merry.” Pippin finished in an anguished whisper and slid to the ground against an oliphant foot to rest. He sat there staring dejectedly at the ground, listening to the sounds of nightfall fast approaching; of distant cries of nazgul returning to Mordor; the clang and clatter of shields and swords being salvaged from among the dead.

He looked up at the gathering darkness and began to sing the haunting song he remembered from his youth in the Shire, the one he had sung for the Steward of Gondor.

_Home is behind  
The world ahead  
There are many paths to tread  
Through shadow_

_To the edge of night  
Until the stars are all alight_

_Mist and shadow  
Cloud and shade  
Hope shall fail  
All shall fade_

Pippin had just finished singing when he thought he heard his name being called out, however weak it sounded.

“Merry?” He stood up quickly and waited for an answer.

“…Pippin.”

Although Hobbits’ ears are not as keen as Elves’, they are better than Men’s, and Pippin turned to his right and began walking toward the voice. “Merry, where are you?”

“Pippin.” The voice repeated, a little louder. Pippin rounded another oliphant carcass and found Merry half-hidden underneath an Orc.

“Merry? Merry, it’s me. It’s Pippin.” He reached down and pushed the Orc as hard as he could off of Merry and then pulled him up into his arms.

“Pippin. I knew you’d find me.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave me?” Merry asked in a weak voice. His face was covered in Orc blood, mixed in with some of his own, and he looked so tired.

“No Merry, I’m going to look after you.”

“I heard someone singing. And I knew it was you. I haven’t heard that song since we were younglings.”

“Shhh, don’t talk now. I’m going to take you back and make sure you get better.” Pippin held Merry closer to his chest and just held him for a few minutes. Like he was trying to make sure he was really there and that this wasn’t just a dream he was having back up in his bed in the towers of Gondor, alone.

“Pippin, I’m so glad you’re here with me again,” Merry said after a little while, reaching up to touch Pippin’s cheek and turn his head to face his own glimmering eyes.

Pippin closed his eyes at the touch of Merry’s fingers on his cheek, and then opened them again to stare into those deep brown pools of light.

“I’m not going anywhere Merry, not ever again. Not without you.” In response, Merry slid his hand from Pippin’s cheek around to the back of his neck and pulled lips down to meet lips in a tender kiss. 

Pippin’s head was floating, it felt so good. He deepened the kiss, bringing his right hand up to run through Merry’s wavy hair. His tongue licked Merry’s lower lip seeking entrance, and was eagerly admitted. Pippin started to sigh but it turned into a moan when Merry wrapped his other arm around Pippin’s back, scraping his nails across the shirt under his Elven cloak.

This was the first time they had shown this kind of physical emotion towards each other, although they had been very close, as best friends are, for years and years. ‘But this time is different,’ Pippin thought. This time so much was at stake. This time they had been separated from each other, unsure if ever they would lay eyes on the other again.

The need for air was starting to become an issue, but Pippin didn’t care. This felt too good to stop. But stop he did a few seconds later when he accidentally squeezed one of the bruises on Merry’s arm and he cried out in pain. “Oh, Merry, I’m so sorry.” Pippin said breathlessly. “Here, we need to get you back to Gondor.” Merry nodded his head and leaned against Pippin for a second before Pippin stood up to help him to his feet and waved for a soldier to come help them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that evening Merry laid on the bed in Pippin’s room resting, while Pippin was down in the dining hall gathering food on a plate to take up to his room for them to eat dinner. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Faramir, and Éowyn were all sitting ’round the long dining table, eating and conversing in subdued tones.

Pippin brought up the plate of food and set it down on the bedside table for Merry to pick at what he felt like eating while Pippin prepared the bandages and salve for Merry’s wounds. He took off Merry’s shirt and began to delicately wash the dirt and blood from his arms, chest, and face with a rag dipped in warm water.

“I’m not going to break into a million pieces, you know,” Merry commented with a rye grin. Pippin just smiled and said, “I know,” without looking up and started to clean the gash on the left side of his stomach just as delicately as he had with his face and chest.

“How are you feeling, Master Merry?”

Pippin turned around to see Aragorn standing in the doorway with Legolas by his side.

“I’m doing much better now, Aragorn, thank you,” Merry replied, glancing meaningfully at Pippin before returning his gaze to the Man and the Elf filling the doorway. 

“Glad you’re feeling better, Merry,” Legolas said in his soft but captivating voice as he bent his head towards the two hobbits. He straightened, placed a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder, and said something in Elvish to him. Aragorn immediately smiled, and they bid their goodnights, closed the door, and walked down the hall in the direction of Legolas’ bedroom.

“Well they look to be in pleasant spirits this evening,” Merry commented after they’d gone.

“Yes, I heard Legolas talking to Aragorn down in the Great Hall; he was going to show him his sword after dinner.” 

“Ah. You know they say that Elven swords are the finest in Middle Earth. No wonder Aragorn was smiling.” Merry chuckled a bit and then picked up a few grapes to eat as Pippin returned to his task.

Merry stopped eating though when Pippin’s hands start running up and down his stomach with the wash cloth, and just watched. He was watching Pippin touch him with almost a sort of reverence, and after a few minutes of this, and the bandages were in place, Merry couldn’t take it any longer, and stilled Pippin’s hand on his chest with his own. Pippin looked up at Merry’s face.

“What is it Merry?”

“Kiss me,” came the breathless reply.

Pippin didn’t need to be told twice. He had been dying to ravage Merry ever since they had retired to his room for the night, but Pippin had been just as worried about his injuries, so he had been trying to keep his body in check, which thankfully now he didn’t have to fight anymore. 

Pippin crashed his mouth down onto Merry’s, a slight moan escaping his lips at first contact. Merry pulled Pippin fully onto the small child-sized bed, and wrapped his arms around Pippin’s waist, tugging him down to lay across his chest as their duel of tongues continued.

Merry’s body was on fire, the pain and soreness from his injuries now completely gone, replaced by a euphoric tingly feeling that spread from his head to his toes and back up again to the now uncomfortably tight area in the front of his pants. He slid one leg in between Pippin’s and created much needed friction to try and assuage the burning sensation.

That elicited another, louder moan from Pippin, who was running his hands over every inch of Merry’s firm, bare upper body that was within reach. Merry was reaching around front to untie Pippin’s shirt when he realized that this wasn’t Pippin’s shirt at all. He opened his eyes and broke their lip lock to take a look at the embroidered tunic he had just felt with his hands.

“What’s this you’re wearing? The White Tree of Gondor? Where is your shirt from home?”

Pippin stopped to catch his breath, and propped himself up on his forearms to answer. “It’s over in the corner, with my Elven cloak and my scarf.”

Merry’s brain was still functioning enough for him to know that that white tree meant something important, and wanted to know why Pippin was wearing it when he had no recourse to do so, as far as Merry knew. “Why are you wearing that then?” then it hit him. “Wait, that’s, that’s for the Tower Guard, isn’t it. I saw two sentries standing outside the Great Hall on our way in and they were wearing the exact same tunics. But I didn’t notice yours till just now, your cloak had covered it.

“Pippin, why are you wearing the Tower Guard’s uniform?” Trepidation crept into Merry’s voice. He pushed his way up to a sitting position, forcing Pippin to do the same. ‘No, this can’t be good,’ he thought.

Pippin suddenly felt uneasy, and his heart was racing again, but for an entirely different reason. His eyes searched the floor as if looking for the answer before he spoke. “Because…I pledged my services to the Steward of Gondor in sorrow for his fallen son Boromir…remember, because of that day in the forest.”

Merry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stood up, winced when the act of twisting his torso irritated his wounds, and walked to the other side of the room, putting some distance between himself and Pippin. “Pledged your services? For how long?” 

Pippin wanted to tell him to lie back down or he’d further injure himself, but he was afraid to reach out to him for fear of making the situation worse. “Until they are… no longer needed.”

“How could you do that? How could you leave the Shire like that and not go back? How could you leave me to go back all alone?” Merry was distraught now. He knew he was yelling, and he hated seeing the stricken look on Pippin’s face, but he just didn’t, couldn’t understand how he could do that to them. “Don’t you ever want to see the Shire again? To see Frodo? And Sam, and all your friends at the Green Dragon?” Merry turned and walked outside to the potted terrace that served as a garden high above the fields of Minas Tirith. He took a deep breath to try and calm the hammering of his heart inside his chest. There was a cold breeze blowing and the clouds of doom spreading from Mordor obstructed his view of the sky, but Merry hardly felt the chill nor was he focusing on anything in particular.

Pippin stood up from the bed and followed Merry outside, took him by the shoulders and turned him around, careful not to touch any of the bruises this time. He stared him in the eye and said, “Listen, Merry. Never have I once wanted to abandon the Shire, nor could I even think about not seeing you again. Or Frodo, or Sam. This was just something that I had to do, I wanted to make things right.” Merry turned his head and looked away, but Pippin reached over and pulled it back with a thumb under his chin. “It’s okay. I’m not indebted to the Steward anymore. He released me from his services, and in fact, there is no more Steward. The poor man caught fire while trying to burn his other son alive and jumped off the end of the courtyard out beyond the White Tree.”

By this time Merry’s eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, but he couldn’t help but grimace and ask, “He tried to burn Faramir alive? How could he do something like that?” A few tears spilled over and rolled down his cheek. Pippin reached out and caught one, then two with each hand and wiped them away with his thumbs, gently rubbing the moisture back into Merry’s flushed cheeks. “He thought him dead, he was not in his head, thinking only of himself, and did not recognize that Faramir still breathed.”

“And you, you saved him?” Merry inquired, his previous anger completely forgotten, and replaced by astonishment and awe. He sniffled.

“I went in search of Gandalf, and he was the one to rescue Faramir from the pyre… Merry, please answer me this. I know you want to return to the Shire, and no one wants to accompany you back more than I, but you are needed here, to fight alongside the Fellowship. To save Middle Earth from the dark forces trying to break free from Mordor. But most of all,” Pippin gathered both of Merry’s hands in his own. “I want you; I need you, to stay here with me. Together we can survive this, and then return home to all our friends and all the ale and longbottom leaf our hearts desire.” Merry laughed at that, and answered Pippin with the most searing kiss of his life. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Pippin replied when he regained his breath.

“You’d be a fool of a Took not to,” Merry stated with a sly grin as he pushed Pippin backwards into the room towards their bed to show him that Elves weren’t the only ones with fine swords.

 

***THE END***


End file.
